The central Nigerian city of Jos has experienced violence since the mid-1990s. Fuelled by various ethnic, religious and political factors, the situation escalated after riots in September 2001 that resulted in thousands of deaths. A year ago, a Christmas Eve bombing led to further confrontations in the towns around Jos. Survivors resettled in safer zones, such as the village Furaka, where they face sustained socio-economic hurdles.

by Kingsley Madueke, Jos

“My wife had just put our youngest child to bed when we heard the gunshots,” recalls Abraham Azi as he wipes away the tears. Exactly a year ago at 9pm, Azi’s home was attacked and four of his family members were killed. It occurred in a small community located in the north-eastern outskirts of Jos North Local Government Area in Plateau State. Now he and his surviving family live in Furaka, a settlement where many survivors have relocated to.

Complex background
Jos rates as one of the most popular and cosmopolitan cities in Nigeria. However, violent clashes have occurred between its Muslim and Christian populations for over a decade now. Once a melting pot of different migrants, the city was first ripped apart by riots in 2001 with thousands of deaths. The violence spread over the next years to surrounding towns and villages in the Jos Plateau. Further clashes in 2008 killed 400. After a Christmas Eve 2010 bombing, there have been recurrent skirmishes in the city and its environs.

Several factors are responsible for the crises. It is primarily based on a struggle for political and economic control of Jos and the surrounding Plateau State between the ‘indigenous’, and primarily Christian, on one side and the Hausa-Fulani, who are seen as ‘settlers’, on the other.

Furaka, outside Jos in Nigeria

RNW/Kingsley Madueke

Hard to forgive
Azi and his wife narrowly escaped death by climbing through the bathroom window. “I wanted to go back and help my children and other relatives but the attackers were already in the compound and shooting in all directions.”

“It is very easy for people to talk about forgiveness as long as they have not had their homes destroyed and family members killed,” says 33-year-old Azi. “If unknown gunmen invade your home and kill your mother, grandmother and two children, forgiveness will be the last thing on your mind.”

Survival challenges
“God will pay back our enemies with their own coin,” says Esther Yohana who runs the makeshift kitchen where Azi and other Furaka residents eat for 100 naira (around 50 euro cents) a plate.

Yohana moved to the neighbourhood after losing her husband and three children to the crisis in 2008. She now scours the new settlement’s rocky terrain to gather enough water to run her restaurant. “It is not easy but we will make it through,” she sighs. Sweat pours down her face as she lowers the water container to the dirt

Remembering the attackers
“They wear military uniforms and carry the same rifles as the soldiers at the checkpoints,” says Yohana of the night invaders. One such invasion took place in the village of Dabwak in Farin Lamba. An old couple and two of their grandchildren were shot dead. The villagers claim that the perpetrators of the attack were Fulani herdsmen accompanied by military trucks.

Unhelpful authorities
“Even when law enforcement agents do arrest the culprits, they just take them to Abuja where they release them again,” complains Bala Dusu, a former resident of Dogon Nahawa where an attack in March 2010 left four hundred dead. “We’re tired of turning the other cheek,” he adds angrily. “If the soldiers and police cannot help ensure safety, we will have to pick up arms and defend ourselves.”

“We are safe,” says Ibrahim Bulus, another regular at Yohana’s restaurant,“but we still lack water, good roads, electricity and all social amenities.”